The Mature Cat

I will confess – after you sit down – that as my years progress, I do like dealing with the more mature lady, but it is something I have prided myself in throughout my career, almost from the start of my solo tenure. I vividly remember one wonderful lady – this would have been about 1978, and I was in a flat in Penge when the occupant came home.

She had been to a sixties party by the look of things, as I watched from behind the door connecting to her kitchen as she came into her front room. Her hair was chestnut brown, and arranged in the most wonderful bouffant style, while her outfit was a pale lilac mini-dress, with a small opening under the collar, and knee length white go-go boots.

At any rate, I was in the rather unfortunate position that the only way out without going over several fields was that room, so I opened the doors, saw her alarmed look, and assured her I had no wish nor desire to harm her – but I would have to make sure she could not raise the alarm so that I could abscond with her jewels. Well, she looked at me, her head to one side, and then nodded as she said she believed me, only requesting she be comfortable wherever or however I left her.

Well, I could only respond by offering her the choice of where she wished to be, and she said she would be fine on the couch – once she had done something. And that something was to remove her wig, placing it carefully on a table as she stood with her closely cropped grey-brown hair.

I smiled, and complemented her on looking so wonderful at her age, and she blushed at that – before asking me how I intended to make sure she could not raise the alarm.

I had some lengths of cord with me, so I invited her to lie face down, cross her ankles, and cross her wrists behind her back. This allowed me to ensure her wrists and ankles were secured, before I asked her to roll over, and I put a cushion under her head.

That only left one question – how to keep her quiet long enough for me to be able to make my escape. She told me there was a blue handkerchief in her handbag, which I fetched out, rolled up, and placed in her mouth, the edges sticking out, before I made my apologies and left her there.

Naturally, I called the police once I was a suitable distance away, but she had been so willing a damsel when I had asked so nicely. I guess that was one of the first time I realised just how important manners can be, if used properly.

That certainly came in handy a few years later – this would have been in the mid-eighties – when I was walking in the Denham village when an open door caught my eye. Now, Denham is a fine place, very quiet, and with houses of people with valuable things inside their houses – and I was in a position where I had a spare hour, so I looked round, pulled a pair of gloves on, and quickly walked in.

It was certainly a nice house, and the front room was home to a fine collection of coins on display in a cabinet, so I took the liberty of helping myself to the most valuable – which was when I heard the sound of a woman crying, and turned to see a dark haired lady in her late forties walk in. She was wearing a white jumper, with a silver and diamond necklace round her neck, a knee length black skirt, dark tights and knee length tan leather boots.

But she had been crying – and when she saw me, with the coins, she just said “why not – my day’s ruined already,” and asked if I was going to tie her up.

This was my intention, but I was curious, so I asked her why shew as upset – it was something more than just me. She told me her boyfriend of some years’ standing had just called to break up with her – a thing that would certainly explain the tears and sadness.

I asked why, and she said he had said there was no excitement in their life any more. On hearing this, I asked if he was local, and she said he was – which gave me an idea…

There was a dining table and chairs to the rear of the room, and I asked her if she had a washing line. She nodded, and said she had some tape as well if I was going to gag her, so I accompanied her to the kitchen to fetch the items. On walking back into the front room, I took a chair and set it in the middle of the room, and invited her to take a seat, with her hands in front of her. When she had done this, I made a lasso with the washing line, passed it over her head and shoulders, and pulled it tight so that her arms were fixed to her sides under her chest.

She asked why I had done this, and I said I would show her – which I did, wrapping the rope around her and the chair back so that she was held into place against it, and her arms forced to her sides, and then tying her wrists tightly together in front of her. I then tied them down to her legs, and finally secured her ankles together, taking them to one side and tying them to the chair leg.

She wriggled round, and said she was going to stay there, while I removed her necklace and put it into my bag. I then picked up a white napkin from the table, and asked her where I would find her boyfriend’s number. She asked why, and I said I had my reasons, so she told me his name and said it was in her directory by the phone.

Thanking her for that, I used the napkin as a cleave gag, securing the ends at the base of her neck, and then left, taking a note of the number before leaving the house. A drive to Beaconsfield, and a half in the bar there, and I called her boyfriend, telling him she had been robbed, and she was tied up, awaiting rescue…

There – I think the brew is just right now. As you know, as a rule I am not very fond of having the issue of needing to make sure children cannot raise the alarm when I visit. In 1989, however, there was one time I needed to do that, and in the process made sure a grandmother was really bonding with her granddaughter…

I had been commissioned to obtain some items from a farmhouse in County Durham, given I was there on an antiquing foray, so I made sure I had a couple of spare hours, and made my way to the location. When I got there, nobody was at home, so I let myself in and soon found the things I had been asked to obtain.

Now, I was then in the habit of taking things with me in case I should meet anyone – but what I was not expecting was an eleven year old girl with long brown hair, wearing a dark pink coat over a grey denim bib dress and a blue t-shirt, as well as mid-calf black leather boots. She came into the room I was in, and looked at me, her head cocked to one side as she asked who I was, and why I had Granny’s things.

Now, I’m not the Games Player, or even the remarkable Jay Edwards with Mrs McPhee – and this was nearly thirty years ago – so I looked at her, and asked her who else was in the house. That was when she called out, and a grey haired woman came in, wearing a black jumper over a floral print skirt, dark tights and mid-calf black felt boots with a grey fur trim. She looked at me, and said something under her breath I cannot repeat, before she said I should leave, and she would not tell the police.

I had to assure her she – and her granddaughter – would not be calling the police, but I could not just leave. That was when her granddaughter said I was a thief – and then said I would have to stop her and her granny calling for help.

Well, I looked at her grandmother, and she looked at me, before she said I would have to do that – so I felt as if I had to. I asked them both to put their hands on their heads, and then to walk up to the grandmother’s bedroom with me. They did this, talking as if it was an everyday thing for them, before I told the older woman to sit on the bed, and her granddaughter to stand in front of her, and put her hands behind her back.

A few minutes later, I had the young girl’s wrists tied together behind her back, as well as having secured her grandmother’s and they were both watching as I was binding their ankles together over their boots. Once I had done that, I tied the legs of each of them together below their knees, the little kid raising her legs up to look at them when I had finished, before she said I would have to tie them together back to back.

I asked her grandmother where this had come from, and she sighed as she said they had watched an episode of an American show where the family had been tied like that. Well, I saw no reason why not, so I helped them to sit back to back on the bed, and used a length of rope to tie them together around their waists.

A second band went round both of them, around the young girl’s upper arms and below her grandmother’s chest, her head between the older woman’s shoulder blades. I used a third length of rope to secure her upper arms, above the young girl’s head, and then used two of her headscarves as cleave gags, making sure they were nice and tight, before I made a low bow and left them to enjoy their afternoon.

I know they enjoyed that time, but as to how I know – I’ll get to that in a little while…

One thing about people as they get older, they get lonelier, and sometimes all they want to do is talk to someone. It was 1995, and I was in Western Scotland, when I was asked to visit a small seaside cottage and give a security quote.

I was greeted at the door by a lovely woman in her late sixties, with short white hair, who was wearing a short sleeved blouse with a floral print, and white trousers, the legs tucked into knee length black patent leather boots. She also had the most amazing grey eyes, behind a pair of tortoiseshell glasses. I was invited in, and we sat and talked about her house and her possessions over tea and biscuits.

Eventually, I was able to say I could do a quote for her, and asked if there was anything else I could do for her. She gave me a funny look, and then asked if I knew how to tie someone up and stop them calling for help?

Not what you would expect to hear, but I said I could do that, and asked her why. She said her family were coming round, and they – well, she wanted to give them a surprise, if I could help. She also assured me she was not going to drop me in it, as it were.

So I asked her what she wanted me to do, and she stood up, picking up a bag from a corner and handing it to me. I asked her again if she was sure, and she nodded as she folded her glasses and put them on the table.

So I started, as I always do, with her wrists, crossed and tied together behind her back, and then secured more with some rope round her waist. As I did this, she thanked me, and said she used to play these games a lot with her daughter – so maybe she might play again.

That was a conversation for those two to have, as I tied some rope round her arms and body, above and below her chest, so that they were secured in place, and invited her to take a seat on a recliner in the room. She then lay back, wriggling and watching as I tied her ankles together side by side, and then secured her legs together below her knees,

She then opened her mouth, allowing me to put a folded cloth in at her request, and then cover her lips with silver tape, before I made sure she was comfortable and safe. I finished about ten minutes before she was due to receive visitors, and went out to my car, making notes on my proposals as I watched from around the corner. A few minutes later, a car pulled up outside, and a mother and daughter got out. I hoped they were ready to help as I drove off…

It was at about that time when I had a rather unusual visit to make as well. It was one that came about after a visit to my first antique store by a woman in her early fifties, who had some plate she was wanting valued. I was more than happy to oblige, as she took note, and then said she was wondering about improving her security – but her husband did not think it was necessary.

She had short grey-blonde hair, a nice smile, and wore glasses, as she asked if I knew of anyone who could persuade her husband. Looking at her, I said from my experience, the only way to convince someone like that is to actually rob them – or stage a robbery.

I noticed an excited gleam in her eye, as she asked if I knew anyone who could stage a robbery – on her terms, with no comeback. Well, I said I may be able to help, but she would need to do something for me, first to sign a waiver just in case, and then to be prepared.

Two days later I was walking up the street, wearing a black hat over my head, a dark leather jacket over a sweater, jeans and trainers. As I got close to the house in question, I looked round, made sure my rucksack was on, and put on some leather gloves before I walked up to the front door of the house. Looking round, I rolled down the rim of my hat to over my head, leaving only my eyes and mouth visible, before I let myself in and closed the door quietly behind me.

I could hear the radio on in the kitchen, and walked in to see the lady of the house, wearing a black roll neck sweater, beige skirt, dark tights and black leather boots. She was standing looking at a mirror, smiling as she used a digital camera to take a photo of herself – and then turning and gasping as she saw me standing there.

As soon as I spoke, she knew who it was, and admitted I had frightened the life out of her. I replied that would have been the point, and told her to take me up to her bedroom. Once we got there, I asked her to select some of her jewels, and put them in the little bag I gave her – I’d hold on to them for safe keeping, and she could collect them from me in a few days.

I have to admit, she did seem excited about doing that, before I slipped the rucksack off and put it on the bed, and then she put the black bag into it as I took out some soft red rope. Crossing her wrists behind her back, I made sure they were firmly secured together, and then took a longer length around her body, pulling it tight under her chest before I wound it round above and below, securing her arms to her side as I tied it off behind her, and then took the rope under one arm, up and around the back of the neck, and under the other arm.

She took a seat on the bed when I invited her to do so, and then crossed and bound her ankles together, before securing her legs together below her knees. She asked if I had done this before professionally, and I nodded, saying that those days, I mainly did it for security demonstrations – or when asked to.

She wriggled round as I tied the rope off on her legs, smiling at the squeak of her leather boots, and then I compressed a sponge ball in my hand, and told her to open her mouth. When she did so, I pushed the sponge in, and then used some white medical tape to cover her mouth, the shape of her lips visible underneath as she nodded at me.

To add the final touch, I helped her to lie on her side, pulled her ankles back, and tied them to her chest ropes, making sure she was still comfortable, and then took the mask off, rubbing my hand through my hair and ensuring she was going to be ok. When she nodded, I left with the rucksack.

And I promise you, a week later, she came in with her husband and asked for a security quote…

Now, remember that little girl from the mid-eighties? A couple of weeks ago, I was in my shop when a woman in her late forties came in, with her twenty year old daughter. I welcomed her, and she said she had bene given my name by a friend, whose name I did recognise. When I asked what I could do for her, she said she had been, when she was a little girl, tied up and gagged with her grandmother when she was visiting County Durham…

I asked if she had been all right, and she said she had, but the memory of that day had been with her all her life, and when her daughter had heard about it, she asked her mother if she wanted to relive that time. It is not unheard of, and she had heard I had done that thing for people in the pas t- also true.

So I arranged to visit her at her home, to value a wardrobe she had – and also to give her and her daughter a taste of what happened.

When I called, she opened the door, her short hair held back by a white hairband. She was wearing a grey wool jacket over a black t-shirt, and faded blue jeans, the legs tucked into black leather boots. Her daughter greeted me when I came in – she was also wearing a black t-shirt, with a long blue denim skirt and snakeskin patterned grey leggings, but she was barefoot.

Well, we sat, had coffee, and then I asked where the wardrobe was – the woman countering with she would tell me where it was, but first they wanted to have the experience. I nodded, and said they should do anything they needed to do, before we met in the front room.

When they came in, I had pulled the curtains across the windows, and I asked them both to kneel down in front of the couch, and put their hands behind their backs. As they did this, I took some cords from a bag I had brought in, and crossed the woman’s wrists behind her back, binding them together as she and her daughter talked about their plans for the next day – a shopping trip, maybe some lunch to, and a film…

Once I had them both secured at the wrists, I took longer lengths of rope, and started to bind their arms to their sides. She remembered feeling the ropes around her and her grandmother, and looking up to see the extra one I had tied on her grandmother. She said she wondered why the man had done that – I wasn’t about to say I knew why…

Once they both had their arms tied to their sides, I helped them to sit back to back, taking more cords as I knelt by the older woman’s feet, and started to bind her ankles tightly together as she watched. Her daughter asked what the squeaking noise was, and as I pulled the rope between her legs her mother told her it was her boots rubbing together under the rope.

I then tied her legs together below her knees, and walked round, securing her daughter’s ankles and legs in the same way as her mother. I then took a long, long length of rope, and tied them together around their waists and upper bodies, so they were truly secured together.

For the gags, I used folded cloths in their mouths, and then white micropore tape over their lower faces, smiling as they both nodded and grunted – and then I went to examine the wardrobe, leaving them for a while to enjoy the experience.

Oh of course I let them go before I left – rescue was not part of that particular package. On the other hand, I have heard of some… But that’s a story for another day…

Return to the Memoirs of the Cat index

Return to the main index